Long After Night Begins
by and if I dream
Summary: Everyone has a fear of something, something that shows up long after the night begins but well before the morning.
1. Win Together, Lose Alone

**Don't Let The Darkness In**

 **Every demigod has nightmares. Every demigod has a fear of something, something that shows up long after the night begins but well before the morning. For some, they're terrifying. For others, they're prophetic. But for all, the darkness holds its own threats.**

 **Chapter One:** ** _Win Together, Lose Alone_**

* * *

Jason stood on the uppermost deck of the Argo II, Piper pressed into his side. The glowing stars that seemed to show up only at when they were together lent the scene enough light that he could see every detail of her face and every stray hair from her braids. They'd been sitting up there for hours, watching the sun set slowly and the moon take its place in the sky. It was their routine, whenever one of them had the night watch.

He was absently fiddling with a strand of her hair, watching it catch the dim light, when she spoke.

"Do you hear them?"

"Who?" he asked, but he knew exactly what she was referring to. The night prowls of Annabeth and Percy, their muted footsteps still echoing in the halls. Nearly every night one of them would get up, passing his room to reach the other's cabin. He didn't mind. They'd been through hell and yet were still fighting, still helping, still protecting.

And on the nights where neither woke him, he knew they hadn't even tried to sleep apart.

Piper rolled her eyes. "Them," she whispered, pointing across the deck. Two figures stood at the railing, golden hair and black each reflecting the light in their own way. Their outlines were wafer-thin and bony. Neither demigod ever ate much and it was almost physically painful for Jason to watch them move, every joint obvious. They weren't starvation-thin, but it was still… He didn't know what it was.

"Yeah," he whispered back, staring out over the open sky that they raced through as quickly as the ship could take them. She just leaned into his chest in response, soft braids tickling his skin.

Their silence unnerved him, but it was also somehow comforting. They both faced their own nightly battles, their own private horrors. Gods knew, he had his own.

* * *

They were still on the deck six hours later, Percy and Annabeth having disappeared as soon as the stars dimmed and the moon began to fall. Piper had fallen asleep in Leo's chair and Jason stood guard alone.

Alone. All alone, the leader of an invisible army that didn't answer his call. The one they would turn to in fear, venerate in victory, and shred in failure. Their visit to the House of Hades had brought back the nightmares, every battle, quest, and loss. Jason had experienced few, but enough. Enough to know that your dearest supporters would leave the instant they saw weakness.

And so he had learned to be strong. Always fighting, always leading, always, eventually, winning. But the plane of his life was far more unsteady than the floating ship beneath his feet, even if no one else ever saw it. He'd been fighting for a grasp, a handhold that didn't crumble, since the day he was born.

Yet here he was, watching alone. Fighting alone. Jason fingered the hilt of his sword, partly from nerves and partly from pride. He had done well, guarded his family, saved others' lives. But it was somehow not enough, the same way the glowing bronze ship beneath his feet wasn't enough to carry them to Athens. He couldn't protect everyone during the worst times and that was what scared him, made his hands shake and his fighting uncertain. If he failed, someone would leave him again, leave him behind for the next best thing, saying, like his mother, "I will always come back."

Then, of course they never did. One person after another had gone from his life, some his fault, others war, and a few merely happenstance, until the pillar of support he relied on had crumbled to wafer-thin and wobbling. But he was shaken from his thoughts when an army's worth of buzzing invaded his hearing, sounding for all the world like a swarm of killer bees.

Unfortunately, it was worse. Birds descended on the ship, surrounding it in a black cloud. Jason ran to where Piper sat and shook her awake.

"Go downstairs, get the others," he yelled above the noise, heart beating painfully fast. She nodded and raced away, the sheath of her knife swinging at her hip. The cloud of pigeonlike creatures swarmed him, sharp beaks tearing at any exposed skin. Jason drew his sword and swung at the cloud, hoping to the gods that they would actually die.

Several exploded into dust, coating the back of his throat. He gasped for air and swung again, but it was a hundred to one and their beaks were razor sharp, ripping at him like a thousand daggers. He backed up, hurrying to the middle of the ship, and leapt off the ground, letting the wind throw him into the air. The birds followed, the metallic chattering of their beaks chasing him as he flew in figure eights around the masts. Occasionally he would hit one or two, but he couldn't do much else and didn't have the strength without sleep to push them away with the winds. Then an idea formed slowly in his mind and he dove through the cloud, watching with satisfaction as some fell out of the air with the wind caused by his passing. He stared at the deck hopefully, but no one stood there.

He would fight alone.

Jason dropped to the deck, stumbling slightly with the sudden gravity. Nearly half the birds arrowed into the deck in pursuit, sharp beaks clanging against the metal, but most of them took to the air again. Jason laughed through his dusty, dry throat at the image of the ten or so birds stuck in the decking, wings flapping uselessly. Then one ripped a chunk of skin from the back of his head.

The rising light made the metal features of the monsters glint like fireworks and the barrage of light stung his eyes. But he ran, dodging the clouds as he leapt onto the stern railing, wobbling precariously and swinging his _gladius_ at anything that came near. The birds converged around him but he used his control of the air to keep them from touching him. More and more came closer, occasionally one getting through the swirling wind and managing a slash or peck on his arms or face.

The pain was finally getting to him over the adrenaline and he stung all over, a few deeper cuts making him wince when he moved. But the dark cloud of birds were tight enough now to blot out the sun and Jason had to act, he had no help coming. With a roar, lightning flashed across the sky, through his body, and outwards in a million rays, incinerating all but two or three birds that immediately flew away. An ashy feather drifted by his nose and he sneezed suddenly, tipping over the edge of the ship.

He nearly screamed in shock but instead let the winds catch him and deposit him in an exhausted heap by the mast. Jason lay still for a moment before staggering up and making his way to the staircase, only to be met in a rush by Piper and the others.

* * *

Soon enough he'd been given ambrosia and patched up, heartily slapped on the back and sent to his cabin. No one followed, not even Piper, and he slept unsteadily, revisiting the scene in his nightmares.

Jason had never really fought entirely by himself like that before and it scared him. He didn't know how, couldn't figure out how to run into battle without the legion behind him.

 _What if you never do?_ That small part of his mind, the one that tortured him after every fight, reminding him of his imperfections, muttered throughout the peaceless sleep. The part that reminded him of his loneliness and failings and how maybe if he wasn't so _something_ he wouldn't be so alone.


	2. Painted Truths and Sculpted Lies

**Don't Let The Darkness In**

 **Chapter Two:** ** _Painted Truths and Sculpted Lies_**

* * *

"I won't let him hurt you, Reyna," Hylla whispered, hugging her younger sister tightly. Reyna leaned into Hylla's arms, clutching at her like a lifeline.

"I know," Reyna said, staring out at the stars beyond their home. Their artificial promise, a monument to the appearance of truth and the darkness behind its white walls. She could hear someone shouting and stomping around downstairs. Her father had been storming around for hours now, too drunk or too insane to find them.

"Promise," Hylla breathed into her ear. Somehow Reyna could hear her over the storm below, just as she could hear her own heart beating rapidly and her blood rushing through her body. Reyna nodded.

* * *

"You-monster-child!" her father roared, punctuating each word with a blow that hurt Reyna's heart far more than her body. "A devil! Ungrateful _girl!_ I-have-done-EVERYTHING for you!" _Except be a father. Except fulfill the promise that went hand-in-hand with parenthood._

"Reyna," Hylla mumbled through bloodied and swollen lips, looking on helplessly as she was beaten, as every square inch of her soul was torn raw. Then Reyna's fury truly bubbled up.

"You promised," she said as loud as she dared, staring her sister in the eye, the eyes so like her own. _"You promised."_ Then her father hit her again, this time on the back of the head, and she was gone.

* * *

Darkness turned and so did her father. With the dark, he became angrier, harsher, more prone to try to kill her. He was repeating his nightly routine, screaming and cursing downstairs as she hid with Hylla in their house of painted truths and sculpted lies.

"You won't have to be the one," Hylla said, almost conversationally. But Reyna knew exactly what she was talking about. _You won't have to be the one to kill him._ "We'll escape," she said firmly, plaiting Reyna's hair, undoing it, and plaiting it again. The same way their father became better in the day, his personal barriers stiff and upright, rarely failing. And then the night, the wildness exploded, weaving its way across her, body, mind, and soul. The way his barriers dissolved in the bottle of whichever alcohol he chose to consume that night.

"So you'll kill him, to escape? For us?" Hylla froze, her hands no longer weaving their way through Reyna's hair. Suddenly she breathed again and Reyna could practically feel her rolling her eyes. _No, Reyna, no more piraguas. No, silly sister, you can't take the cat home. No, little girl, you can't save us. No._

"No, Reyna," Hylla told her patiently, but Reyna could hear her voice tremble. "No. Never. We are Roman. We will escape, but without dishonorable murder." _Is it murder, though, truly?_ "I'll find a way, don't worry."

And even though Reyna should have known better, she believed her.

* * *

"REYNA!" Hylla was screaming. "Reyna! Run! Let's go!" But her vision tunneled red as a chair flew towards her sister, flying straight at her from the upper balcony where their father stood. "Reyna! It's time to _go!"_ The chair hit Hylla square across the face and her only friend, her lone protector, flew backwards.

Reyna sprinted for the stairs leading to the balcony, swirling with ghosts and pain.

"REYNA!" But she was already halfway up the stairway and lunging for an alcove that had a sword displayed. She grabbed it and kept going, pushing through the crowd of misery, the grey ghosts of her past.

"Ooh, little girl, going to fight me? Going to break the rules, daughter? Going to get yourself killed to be noble? Go ahead, little girl!" her father taunted, face flickering between pale and solid, dreams and reality.

Neither of which were very nice.

"You- you are _not my father,_ " she hissed, swinging the sword through the ghosts and watching as they disappeared in puffs of smoke. "I am _not_ your daughter!" She stabbed towards him, not to kill, but just to escape. Hylla promised they would escape. The shining blade seemed to move in slow motion, as if it wasn't her holding it, and it pushed through her father's body with no resistance.

Through his heart. And he vanished in smoke, too, and she threw down the sword and ran into the night.

* * *

"Circe," the woman smiled sweetly, positively glowing. "Sorceress. I can light the way for you, girls," she said, holding out her hand. Reyna was mesmerized by the flames flickering across her fingertips, as if caught in a breeze. "I will make you strong. I promise so, to all my students. And you two are _very_ powerful." Hylla seemed entranced by her promises, by Circe's honeyed words. But Reyna knew better.

Her sister yanked on her arm, taking them several paces away from the witch. "We _have_ to join her, Reyna," she said, eyes sparkling and eager. "Look at all the chances, all the opportunity. And it's all women. No- no _men."_ She was glowing, just like Circe.

How could she say no? Not that if she did, it would matter, but…

"If she keeps her promise," Reyna whispered. "We'll stay." Hylla nodded and practically shouted their answer to Circe in her joy.

Circe eyed Reyna harshly, making her wince. "As I promised," she hissed, glaring at her.

Reyna trembled. But she'd _promised._

* * *

"She _promised_ we'd be safe," Reyna sobbed. "Promised!" Hylla stared at her, not making a single move towards her as she would have before they joined Circe. Then Reyna's sister cleared her throat.

"Not everyone keeps promises, Reyna. Don't worry about it." _It's a promise! A promise!_ she wanted to scream. The hard wooden planking underneath her body pressed against her uncomfortably, no light seeping through from the solid night outside.

Who would break their promise next?

* * *

"You'll be fine. Go, Reyna," Hylla prodded. Reyna refused to cry. Refused to show emotion.

Another promise broken. _We'll stay together,_ her sister had said. _Protect each other._

Now Hylla was staying with the Amazons and Reyna was to leave. She shouldered her pack and walked away, ignoring the stinging tears in her eyes.

"Reyna!" Hylla called.

She kept going.

* * *

"See you," Jason yelled. She waved, shading her eyes as her fellow praetor disappeared into the sky. He was going on a quest, without her, without _them._

Her quests had always been _them._ Her and Jason, together. Always. Now she was watching him leave alone.

 _Stop being dramatic,_ she scolded herself. _It's not another broken promise._

A week later, she heard no more from her best friend. (Perhaps her more-than-a-best-friend)

Three weeks later, she still had heard _nothing._

It wouldn't be another broken promise, she told herself. Reyna repeated the words a million times a day.

Two months.

Three months.

Six.

He was still gone. And Reyna lay awake at night, counting the broken promises. She forced herself to believe he was dead.

Jason wouldn't break a promise- _right?_

Eight months.

A year.

 _No._ He had to be dead. That couldn't hurt more than another truth gone, another woven future faded and shattered like a cold sword put into hot water.

She never, ever accepted another promise.


End file.
